She even found a flute placed in her hand.
Dazed, Claire’s gaze shot around the room. She saw Drake in the back, leaning against a broad, white column. Like pretty much everyone else, he had a champagne flute in his hand. He lifted it toward her.
Trace Weston stood beside him. Trace had his hand around Skye’s shoulders. Skye stared back at Claire. Did the other woman looked worried?
Do I look terrified? Because Claire sure felt that way.
Everyone was lifting up their flutes as they toasted to her and Noah. Noah had freed her hand when he took his own flute of champagne.
He offered her a grin. “To my future wife,” Noah said, the microphone catching every word he uttered. “Claire, I always want you to be mine.”
Their glasses touched lightly, and she knew what he’d just done.
The reporters. The people. The public display.
The killer had gone quiet, and Noah thought to draw him out again with show.
“Always mine,” Noah whispered and his lips took hers.
***
Claire was running, and she knew it. Noah was surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, and it had been hard, but Claire had managed to slip away from the crowd.
And she was now dashing for the exit as quickly as she could.
“You didn’t tell me you were planning to marry Noah.” Skye slipped into Claire’s path. She was smiling, but her eyes flickered with concern. “Congratulations. I hope you’ll be—”
Claire caught Skye’s hands. She brought her in close, as if she were hugging the other woman. “I didn’t know this was going to happen. He never asked me to marry him. This is all some plan of his.”
A plan that was ripping her apart. Noah didn’t know how long she’d actually dreamed of having a life, a husband who loved her.
He didn’t know how hard it had been for her to stand there while he pretended they were the perfect couple.
She eased back from Skye, but made sure to keep that terrible, fake smile on her face. In case others were watching. And they were.
Skye’s gaze searched hers. “What plan?” Skye whispered.
“He’s putting us in the spotlight. I think he wants the killer to come at him again.”
“So Noah can catch the guy.” Skye was gorgeous in a black dress that fit her like a glove. “But he’s pulled you into the cross-fire, too.” Anger roughened her words.
“I was always in the fire.” That danger was nothing new. She’d been hunted since she was sixteen, in one way or another.
She eased away from Skye. “I just…I need to be alone for a few minutes.” Then she’d get her control back. She’d stop feeling as if she were about to break apart. But when Claire looked around the ballroom, she saw Trace striding toward them. And Noah had pulled free of his throng and he was closing in, too.
“Buy me just a few minutes,” Claire said.
Skye nodded.
Claire rushed for the doors. A few more steps, and she’d head outside and be able to breathe for a bit. She’d suck in some air on the balcony, pretend that everything was fine, and she’d be okay.
But she didn’t make it to the balcony. A man’s hand snaked out and caught her arm, and Claire opened her mouth to scream.
“No need for that,” Drake said as his hold tightened around her. “You know you’re safe with me.”
He pulled her behind one of the huge, towering columns that lined the outskirts of the ballroom. He caged her against that column, and he lifted her left hand. “There’s no ring here.”
“No.”
“You didn’t look like a blushing bride-to-be up there.”
“That’s because I didn’t know I was going to be one.”
He exhaled. “He should’ve told you.”
Drake seemed to surround her fully then, and, hidden behind that heavy column, no prying eyes could see them. “Did he tell you? Did you know what Noah was planning?” It was her life. Noah should never have pulled a stunt like this without talking to her first.
“Hell, no. The guy’s always twisting up the game.”
There was no anonymity for her now. Her face would be everywhere. In the papers. On the news. Everyone would know who she was. Worse, they’d know who she’d been.
“I need to get out of here,” Claire said, nearly desperate. “Those people—it’s too much. I feel like they’re vultures circling in for the kill.”
“Because that’s exactly what they are.” He stepped back, surprising her. Then he took her hand in his.
Claire’s breath eased out.
“Interesting,” Drake murmured.
What?
“Come on. I’ll get you some freedom.” Then he was guiding her though the ballroom’s back doors. In moments, they were sliding into the private elevator. “You know, you’re leaving your fiancé in the middle of your own party.”
A shiver had her tensing. “I’ll go back. I just need a few moments.”
His hand still held hers.
“You didn’t tense on me,” Drake said as the elevator doors closed.
She stared at their hands. No, when he’d taken her fingers in his, she hadn’t tensed. Claire had actually felt relieved by his touch then.
“Not afraid of me anymore?” Drake queried softly. “Did you decide that I don’t have a monster inside?”
She pulled away from him. “I know you do.” But, no, she wasn’t afraid of him.
Maybe she should be.
“You don’t belong in Noah’s world.”
Those words had her blinking in surprise.
“When this is all over, you need to leave. Run as fast and as far as you can, but be warned, Noah will follow you.”
“W-why are you telling me this?”
His smile was sad. “Because I like you, and I don’t want to see you ripped apart by the vultures that always circle him.”
The elevator doors opened. Claire hurried out—
And she slammed right into Austin Harrison.
***
“She wants some time alone,” Skye said as she put her little ex-ballerina body right in front of Noah. Like she was going to slow him down. “Give her that time,” Skye ordered. Her hands were on her hips and a glower was on her face.
Noah started to brush by her, but then Trace slid up behind his wife. Trace lifted a brow. “I’d suggest you listen to that advice. I saw Claire’s expression a few minutes ago. That woman is running scared.”
And that was why he needed to get to her. He hadn’t told Claire his plans beforehand because he’d known that she’d balk. But if he introduced her as his fiancée in front of everyone…I gambled that she’d stay quiet. That the shock would keep her at my side.